Driving Me Crazy
March 3, 2010 • Cora Jaeger, Staff Reporter
Filed under Opinion
I drive an ’89 Ford Mustang. Half of the time people don’t even believe my car is a Mustang. Most people can’t even look past the peeling grey paint and the old fashioned rims with spokes that embody the essence of the economy-focused ‘80s. However, I do admit that the body style of the car itself, the elongated front end and the hatchback, make it incredibly similar to the car from Back to the Future. Say anything you want about my car, I love it no matter what. Its faded grey upholstery that now has a blue tint, its finicky locks, and the awesome sunroof, all of it added together gives my car a sense of spunk and moxie. As you can tell, it would take a lot of effort to get me to trade it in.
My “Stang” and I, we’ve been through a lot together-dirt roads, parallel parking, and even driving over large curbs in the parking lot at Vernie’s- but never before have I been more terrified for my car’s safety than in the student parking lot.
First off, my car has no airbags. Therefore, I am not allowed to wreck. If I do wreck, I will not be given a new car. This is a rule made clear by my parents. I plan to abide by it. However, the HHS parking lot threatens my promise to abide by the rule.
The speed limit signs say 10 mph, but it’s well known that no one follows this rule. Some bigger vehicles may be able to tackle the ancient and lumpy speed bumps at a higher speed, but my car screams in protest when I have to jump it over a bump and into a pothole.
So, I’m sorry if my car sits lower to the ground and I can’t pretend I’m a Jeep mudding through the rainforest, but I’m going to have to slow it down a bit. After I slow down comes the famous pass of the vehicle behind me in a wide arc. Then, right as I’m turning and using the designated parking lot alleyways, the car comes weaving between already parked cars to cut me off and slide gently into the parking spot I was aiming for.
The next thing the driver does is glare and flip me off because it was apparently my fault that the front end of my short car almost grazed their oversized tire. There is a thing called parking lot etiquette, people.
Although the parking lot is terrifying 99.9 percent of the year, it’s just reached 100 percent terrifying with the arrival of… the potholes. There I am, minding my own business and scoping out a parking spot when out of nowhere an 8.0 magnitude earthquake hits my car. When I look back I can see that I drove through a pothole that could fit Texas in it. My poor car seems grateful to be put into park those mornings.
I guess what I’m saying is that our parking lot needs some attention. Hopefully, when the weather warms my wish will be granted. No more will the potholes, large cracks, and uneven speed bumps plague the lot. My car won’t jumble across the way and practically fall into the parking stall.
The only problem with this is a newly paved parking lot is sure to create an even higher chance of speeding. So maybe that’s the answer. Does our administration actually believe that the awful condition the parking lot is in will keep minor wrecks from happening?
In the end, I’m not really sure what would be better, just getting the lot fixed up or simply applying some common driving courtesy. All I’m worried about is keeping myself, and my car, safe from harm.
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